


First Encounters

by deltachye



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Comedy, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Language, One Shot Collection, Other, Reader-Insert, Romantic Comedy, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-05
Updated: 2018-06-07
Packaged: 2018-08-16 20:04:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 17,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8115670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deltachye/pseuds/deltachye
Summary: [reader x various haikyuu!]How were you supposed to know that this volleyball obsessed freak that you'd just met was actually your soulmate?[Response to "How We Met" challenge by SugarLandBabyGirl]





	1. At A Cultural Festival [1] Lev Haiba

_first sight._

* * *

 

“I think we’re lost,” your friend declared, in a tone so upbeat you might’ve thought that she was celebrating the birth of her first child.

“No shit!” you muttered, standing stock-still in the expansive entranceway to some park in the middle of buttfuck nowhere. You turned around in a circle, peering up at the unfamiliar landscape, as if staring harder would make it any less unknown.

“Yikes,” your friend mumbled nonchalantly, with a little shrug as she started to dig out her phone. “I could’ve sworn Google Maps told me to take this bus.”

“Hiroe,” you groaned pleadingly. “At least tell me you know where we are?”

“Oh, no. Yikesamundo.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?!”

“My phone just died.” She showed you the completely blank screen, the shiny surface reflecting the blinding sun into your eyes. “Can I use yours?”

“You already know that I forgot mine at home,” you whispered through clenched teeth, trying your hardest not to cry.

“Oh. Yikes. This is quite the situation, eh?”

“Stop acting like this isn’t a big deal, would you?! We’re lost! Lost! In _Tokyo_! Downtown Tokyo!”

“It’s fine. Look, I think there’s some sort of cultural festival going on. Let’s just take a looksee around and then we can ask people how to get back to the train. Okay?”

“Not okay!”

You weren’t one to be comfortable when things were out of your hands. Being lost was especially a nightmare, and already you were jumping to the worst possible end games. What if you got groped? Mugged? _Stabbed_?! It didn’t matter that it was midday on a busy Saturday, all these people just meant that you had a higher chance of being attacked by one! Speaking of the crowd…

“Is it, um… Russian culture day or something?” you asked, looking around. Intricate embroideries lining red, white, and blue toned cloth swarmed you and one lady even had some sort of big ass hat. You tried not to gape, but you had been raised a lot farther out in the country. Thus, the only culture you’d really been exposed to was your own. After moving to Tokyo you had managed to adjust to the fast-paced modern lifestyle, but seeing such a stark difference between the people around you and yourself made you feel extremely out of place.

“Looking at the signs, I’d say so.” Hiroe pulled ahead a little and you hastened to follow, taking your eyes off of a group of traditional dancers. “Look at all these white people!”

“What?! Hiroe, you can’t just say something like that in public!” you gasped, horrified by her lack of social sensitivity.

“I’m just saying, you hardly ever see this many out in the countryside back home, right? Look at that guy, he’s cute! And tall!”

“Shit,” you muttered, looking up. “He is.”

“Cute?”

“Tall!”

The guy in question looked as if he could probably step on you if he wanted. Hell, he’d probably step on you by accident if he didn’t look where he was going. He was lean but lanky, with arms and legs so long they almost looked alien. His light hair looked like it was woven from platinum in the afternoon sun and it contrasted vividly against the Japanese visitors’ dark hair. He was also dressed in the style of clothing the others wore. Through the cotton you could tell he had a lithe figure, and when looking at him from a distance, he reminded you almost of a predatory feline.

“You’re staring pretty hard,” Hiroe teased with a knowing smile, leaning close to you. “You like him that much? I didn’t know you were so into foreigners. Your kids’ll look cute. Halfies are all the rage.”

“I—so what if he is kind of cute? Leave me alone, Hiroe!”

She tsked disapprovingly. “Honey, I love you. But with that attitude, no other guy will. Hey, excuse me?! Gaijin-kun!”

You almost fainted.

“What are you doing you dumbass?! You’re drawing his attention! Don’t just yell ‘Hey, foreigner’ at him like that!”

“That’s the point,” she said to you out of the corner of her mouth, before continuing to shout. “Excuuuse me, Gaijin-kun? Tall-san! My friend wants to talk to you!” She lowered her voice when the boy in questioned turned to find the source of the racket. “Do you think he even knows Japanese?”

“I’m leaving.” Immediately you turned heel and tried to get away, but Hiroe clasped a hand tightly around your wrist. You tried to wriggle free, but Hiroe was able to hold onto limited edition idol CDs around rabid fangirls, and her grip was solid.

“This will be good for you!” she insisted as Mr. Tall made his way over, his expression lined with curiosity. “You need to learn how to socialize without being so vulgar and country bumpkin like.”

“What if I don’t give a shit and want to be a country bumpkin forever, Hiroe—?!”

“Hi!” Hiroe chirped in English, making you realize that Mr. Tall had already come into earshot distance. “Japanese?”

“Yeah, I was raised here. Do I know you?”

Hearing his fluent speech in your language made you relax a little. But only a little. You still felt as if you might die from sheer anxiety.

Hiroe let go of your wrist before pointing at you, smiling up at the guy, who was so tall that he actually cast a shadow over you.

“My friend here wanted to ask you some things about the cultural festival! Meanwhile, I’m gonna go find a phone charger to borrow, okay?” She slapped you on the shoulder so hard that you stumbled forwards, moving closer to the giant. She winked and turned, speeding off before you could even tell her that she was dead to you. Your neck creaked as you slowly turned back to look at the giant.

“Hi!” Mr. Tall said suddenly, your heart jumping into overdrive with his sudden and loud introduction. He shot out a hand that resembled a saucepan. “My name’s Haiba Lev. I’m half Japanese and was born here, even though I don’t look it. I’m also half Russian, which is why my sister dragged me out here today!”

“Oh,” you mumbled, now understanding why this boy looked like a skinny pale tree. You reached out a tentative, shaky hand, feeling his large and warm fingers wrap over yours and shake. Your shoulder joint complained as he thrashed you around, saying, ‘nice to meet you!’

“Are you in high school?” he asked you, raising a thin eyebrow. His green eyes were flecked with grey and you found yourself staring up at him as if in a daze. You shook yourself out of it and nodded rapidly, smiling weakly.

“Y-yeah, I just started my first year.”

“Really?! Me too!”

You about choked on your own saliva. “You’re in highschool… and you’re only in first year?!”

“Yeah. Other people get surprised, too. What school do you go to?”

Despite your previous apprehension, you found yourself relaxing a little bit, his personality fairly amiable. His enthusiasm made it easier for you to reply to his questions.

“Fukurodani Academy,” you said, still feeling shy under his scrutiny. He gasped excitedly like a little boy would.

“Seriously?! I go to Nekoma! I’m on the volleyball team, so I’ve played Fukurodani a lot.” He continued to chat about volleyball and you nodded obligingly, still wondering why the kid was even talking to you in the first place. After all, he was athletic and energetic, attractive to boot, and you resembled a steamed sweet potato on a good day.

“So, why are you here?”

“Wh-what? Why am I here?” you blinked yourself out of your thoughts, staring up at him. He smiled kindly, the wide grin stretching his features in a way that was incredibly adorable.

“Yeah, at the Russian Culture Festival.”

“I… well… me and my friend got lost.” Unable to find a cool or witty explanation, you resorted to telling the truth, cringing at yourself. He laughed, but in a way that was not cruel, and pointed out to the dancers you had been admiring earlier.

“The one on the veeeeery left is my big sister.”

“Really?” you gasped, watching the tall, light haired woman spin gracefully. If you looked closely at their eyes, you could find the resemblances. “She’s so pretty, and good!”

“I know.” He beamed at his sister before snapping his fingers abruptly. “Say, since you’re from my rival school, I’ll make you a bet. If you can eat more syrniki than me, I’ll give you a tour for free!”

You had no idea what syrniki was, but he barrelled on without acknowledging your confusion in the slightest.

“If not, then I lose, and you have to take me to the Japanese Culture Festival next week!”

You knew about that festival, since it was fairly close to your own home. However, your eyebrows knit together suspiciously.

“It sounds like you’re the one benefitting in both situations. What do I get besides the free tour?”

“Special time with me, Nekoma’s Star Ace. Duh? Now come on, we’ve got to find the syrniki stand or else the lady will run out!”

“I—um—okay, I guess!” He took your hand in his and dragged you on without much consideration of your approval or not. But frankly, you didn’t mind too much. His large hand enveloped yours completely, warming it in the brisk autumn air.

And you won, much to everybody’s surprise. The crowd that had gathered groaned and cheered, exchanging the yen they had bet on the two of you. You slapped yourself on the back, burping contentedly. You and Lev staggered over to a bench and sat heavily, the wooden boards creaking underneath the combined weight.

“So… say I take you to the Japanese Culture Festival even though you lost. Would that be okay?” you asked, glancing over shyly.

Lev lifted his head with a sudden burst of energy, his lethargy from being full lost entirely.

“Let’s make it a date! I’ll challenge you to takoyaki next time!”

“Please, no…”


	2. At A Concert [2] Tetsurou Kuroo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> R plays flute because i miss playing my flute :^

When you told people that your boyfriend was the Kuroo Tetsurou, they all demanded to know how you two had met.

“At his game? A sports meet? In class?”

“No, no, and no,” you replied to each, fairly testily, getting quite annoyed with the same barrage of questions. “Do you really need to know? Fine. I met him at a concert.”

One of your classmates gasped, her hands flying up to cover her mouth with shock. “Kuroo-san was at a concert? What kind of concert?”

“I bet it was a heavy metal concert.”

The comment from a different classmate made you snort up your apple juice. They stared at you as you coughed, laughing with tears in your eyes.

“Do _I_ look like the type to go to a heavy metal concert?” You rolled your eyes at them as they looked you over judgementally, taking your words seriously.

“No,” one of the girls said bluntly, cocking her head. “But who knows? Kuroo-san looks like he would.”

You had to admit, the lanky and dark teen did look a little less ‘preppy’ and a little more… well. In uniform he looked normal enough, but the popular volleyball player had been reported to wear scandalous fashion outside of classes. Black ripped skinny jeans! Flannel tied around his waist! Spiky leather jackets?!

Honestly, you found the chatter to be quite stupid. If they knew Kuroo like you knew Kuroo, they’d know he wasn’t some cool ultra-star, but merely a big old dweeb.

“It wasn’t a heavy metal concert,” you conceded, before deciding to toy with your classmates a little more. “Can you guess what type of concert we met at?”

“Pop music! One of the big famous stars from America or the UK!”

“Nope.”

“Rock!”

“Nope.”

“A local, indie band?”

“Nope.”

“[Name]-chan!” they whined, leaning in close like a group of children eyeing up a fat piece of candy. “Tell us where you met, already!”

“It was _her_ concert,” a voice behind the five of you said. One girl actually screamed with shock and they all turned simultaneously. You craned your head backwards. Upside down, Kuroo’s grin looked even more lopsided than usual.

“Tetsu,” you said with mild surprise, sitting up and turning in your chair to look at him normally. “What’s up?”

“I’m here to pick up my _late_ girlfriend. Are you telling the story of how we met? You better not make me out to be a big villain.” He laughed lightly, but the other girls glanced at each other with confusion.

“[Name]-chan’s concert? But… she’s not a singer.”

“Aren’t you in school band, [Name]-chan?”

“Yeah,” you agreed with a nod. “What about it?”

“Eeeh?” 

“Kuroo-san… you listen to…” the girl swallowed thickly. “ _Orchestra_?”

“[Name]’s good on a flute.” He smiled roguishly, the smirk looking more of a thug’s than a kid who went to high school band performances. You snorted with amusement when the girls all stared at you with awe. You got up, slinging your bag around your shoulder and tucking your arm around his.

“Swing by the band room sometime!” you told them with a secretive wink. Truth be told, Kuroo hadn’t even meant to show up to your concert. The idiot had gotten confused about schedules and tried to go to volleyball practice during a spring performance. As first flutist, you got to sit front and centre, right in front of the conductor. Apparently, your solo during the second movement had mesmerized the volleyball freak, and he’d marched up to you right after the performance to ask you out. Of course you said… 

_No_ , because who the hell was this guy? You didn’t even know if he went to your school or not. But he warmed up to you soon enough, his persistence wearing down your defenses until you agreed to visit one of his games. Then you understood how he could be so easily star-struck—just watching him play infused you with vigour and excitement. Looking down on him from the wings felt as if you were seeing the real him. Maybe it was the same way for him, looking at you from the audience. After the game, you marched right up to him and agreed to his date offer. 

“It's a good story,” he mused. You leant your head on his shoulder as the two of you walked, side-by-side. He stopped you to give you a peck on the forehead. As he did so, you could hear somebody muttering down the hall,

“How do you think they met?”

“He probably like, ran into her while skateboarding. Or he defended her from muggers!”

“Damn, he seems so cool…!”

Your smile fell again and you rolled your eyes. If only they knew how much of a loser Kuroo really was.


	3. As High School Sweethearts [3] Koushi Sugawara

“This is… Karasuno?”

Peering up at the tall school building, you squinted suspiciously, as if that might make it look different somehow. You looked down at the paper map in your hands—seeing as your flip phone didn’t have the capacity needed to download Flappy Bird, much less Google Maps—and confirmed that you were at the right place. The bustling highschoolers, paired with the sign that literally stated ‘Karasuno High’ in enamelled lettering provided conclusive evidence that yes, this was Karasuno High School.

“It looks too damn nice,” you muttered in disbelief, crumpling up your map and shoving it back into your bag. The place was clean, the people weren’t beating each other up… where were you? Was this seriously a school?

You’d only just moved a month ago from Tokyo after your family inherited a large manor home from some old cousins you had never met. The change had been gladly accepted. Your old house in Tokyo might as well have been set right in the dumpster, for all the good it did you. The only place your parents could’ve afforded was a half-destroyed apartment in the shadier corners of Tokyo. Torono Town was strikingly different. It was a hell of a lot smaller than the city—that much was certain. Where there were skyscrapers there were mountains, and where there had been criminals there were just normal people. The air was clean and if you walked at night, people would smile at you. The sudden change was jarring and you still expected people to demand your money everywhere you went.

“Excuse me?”

“Gah!” You yelped with surprise, having been lost in your own thoughts. Whirling around, you caught a glimpse of a light haired boy, his hazel eyes wide with surprise when you raised your arms defensively.

“I don’t have any money to give you!” you shouted, “leave me alone!”

“Um… I wasn’t doing to ask you for any money.” Despite the confusion etched across his features, his tone still sounded hesitantly _friendly_ , which wasn’t an adjective you had used in years. He looked down at you, squatting in order to lower your centre of gravity, and scratched his head awkwardly. “I just thought you looked lost, that’s all.”

“I ain’t lost!” you lied hotly. You were. Although you had made it to your new high school, you still had no idea where to go to reach the main office. Hell, you didn’t even know where to go for classes. Your last school had been an ex-hospital that creaked and leaked no matter what season, but at least you knew where to be. 

“Okay. Well. My name’s Sugawara Koushi. I’m a first-year here.”

You got up from your stupid-looking ‘battle stance’ but remained wary. Why was this kid sharing this much information with you so readily? 

“You’re a first year?” you asked cautiously, deciding that the question was safe enough. He nodded cheerily, a wide grin splashed across his warm features. You stared. A genuine smile like that… how long had it been since you’d seen one? From an incredibly attractive boy, too? 

“You as well?” he asked. When he noticed you staring at him studiously, his smile toned down in radiance, his inquiry readable on his expression. That was another thing you had noticed about this Sugawara kid. He was all too readable. Too trustworthy. Traits like that had been totally erased from your life. He almost looked like… an angel, really. A benevolent, loving angel. 

“I am,” you admitted, finally. Despite the tension in your shoulders, you cautiously lowered some of your guard. He beamed again, sensing that you had started to trust him a bit. Your heart fluttered until you could feel the heat radiating off of your face. You averted your gaze so that Sugawara wouldn’t notice. Thankfully, he seemed oblivious to your lobster-like complexion and barrelled on. Something about that easy-goingness made you feel a bit more relaxed.

“Are you waiting for a friend?”

“What?”

“A friend. You’ve been standing outside the gates for a while, so I thought you were either lost or waiting for somebody.”

“I don’t have any friends,” you muttered coldly. ‘Friends’ were just people to use and abuse; people who took what they needed before leaving you behind. Sugawara had a different take on your comment.

“Oh, so you’re new? That’s fine. If you don’t have any yet, you’ll make lots in no time. In fact, I can be your first friend. What do you say?” He reached out a hand and you vaguely knew you were supposed to shake it. But instead, you gaped at him.

“You… want to be _my_ … friend?”

“Why not? You’re not going to judo-throw me if you shake my hand, right?” He laughed, but a tinge of nervousness was behind the chuckle. Hesitantly, you reached out, and took his hand. A wry smile stretched the unused muscles of your face and you hid the expression behind the other hand, staring fiercely at the ground as he shook once, then twice.

“I can if you want,” you offered sheepishly. He squeezed your fingers, the callouses on his palm warm in your hand. 

“Maybe another day. What was your name again?”

You gave it, and he grinned again.

“That’s a cute name. Come on, let me introduce you to my friends! Oi, Daichi!”

He tugged on your hand and you stumbled afterwards, still trying to calm your raging pulse. 

Time moved quickly after that. With Sugawara at your side, you learnt how to trust and accept kindness. Leaving behind your old self, you quickly became somebody new—somebody who cheered on their friends and smiled more often. In first year you were close. In second year the two of you were nearly inseparable and in third, he asked you out. Despite your changes you hadn’t lost that sense of scepticism. Even while dating you’d constantly feel insecure about yourself being with him. He was better than you in every way; there were so many other people that would’ve been more compatible with him…

But he made sure to erase all of these thoughts for you by loving you arduously and unconditionally. 

“That’s how you met?!” your daughter screeched. “How sappy!” The eldest daughter rolled her eyes.

“Have you _seen_ mom and dad? They’re like, the sappiest people I know. Of course they’d be high school sweethearts.”

“Did you really think he was gonna mug you, mom? How? Just look at him.”

“Hey,” your husband protested, sitting up with a disgruntled but amused expression across his warm features. “I could definitely mug her if I wanted to!”

“It doesn’t count if you ask for money and I give it to you,” you retorted, the same grin on your face. He smiled softly and leant over, kissing you on the forehead.

“Ew!” the youngest squealed, and the two of you laughed. It didn’t matter if it was sappy. You loved him too much to care, and he felt the same.


	4. At A Coffee Shop [4] Shimizu Kiyoko

After your friend had been the first of the group to secure a job, the rest of your squad had been adamant about making him feel as uncomfortable as possible. He was a barista at the local coffee shop, much to everybody’s delight. Your little pranks never went to the point of social disruption, but whenever he would begrudgingly ask for your name to put on the cup, you’d say stupid shit like “Titty Squeeze” or “Dab Master 3000”. When he’d give you the pointed, tired look of agony, you’d mock offense.

“That’s my name!” you’d insist tearfully, “my grandmother’s name. Are you telling me that you don’t think my name is legitimate?!” 

And he’d have to quietly mutter ‘grande latte for Yo Mama’ to the tune of yours and your friend’s hocking laughter. 

He usually worked Saturdays and Sundays, along with a few alternating weekdays. After a lengthy study session, you decided that the weekend was a perfect time to drop him a visit. You put your nasty four-day hair up in a bun (because hey, if they can’t handle you at your worst, they don’t deserve you at your best) and made the trip down to the coffee shop. Somebody sent you a snapchat on your way and you looked down, walking up to the counter comfortably.

“The usual,” you said. He snorted at you.

“Still sending out those stupid streaks?”

“Look. Just because you don’t reply to my streaks doesn’t mean other people don’t. I’ve got people to please.”

“And what do you want me to put on the cup this time, your Majesty?”

“Oh, let’s see…” you thought about it for a second, still typing on your phone. “How about Harambe? Gotta have my dick out.”

“So… um, how do you spell that?”

Since when did he get such a feminine voice? 

…oh, no.

Immediately your heart dropped into the ground and you whipped your head up, faced with the prettiest girl you had ever seen. She didn’t seem to be wearing make-up of any kind, but her features were sculpted so perfectly that you completely forgot how to breathe. Her dark silky looking hair was pulled up into a ponytail and she had a tiny speck of water on her glasses. The pink frames sat over striking blue eyes. She had her Sharpie hovering over the cup, a wry smile on her lips.

“Uh… where did Ren go?” was all you could manage to squeak out, feeling faint.

“He asked me to take your order. So, is that with an H, or…?”

“You know what?!” you yelped, eyes still wide with horror. “Forget about it! Um, thank you! I’m so sorry!” You turned heel and dashed out of the store, slapping your hands to your cheeks in an attempt to hide the redness while cooling them. After scurrying out of sight from the shop’s main window, you fell to the ground in a low squat, whimpering slightly to yourself. The prettiest damn girl you’d ever seen, and you told her your name was Harambe. _Harambe,_ a dead gorilla. You were about ready to lie down in the middle of the street. 

A week later, you felt comfortable enough to return to the shop. Only after texting Ren a million times to make sure that his goddess of a co-worker wasn’t present. However, when your toe crossed the line, you realized just how horrible of a person Ren was when he smiled fiendishly at you, the very girl you had wanted to avoid by his side. You wanted to do a full 180 and keep walking right out, but he called your name. Gritting your teeth, you lowered your head shamefully and shuffled in.

“This is my friend. I think you guys have met. [Name], this is Kiyoko Shimizu. She goes to Karasuno.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” you said weakly. She smiled and your heart might’ve burst.

“It’s nice to learn your real name,” she said with a light chuckle, one that sounded like bells. She held her hand out and you took it, surprised with how warm and soft it felt. Immediately self-conscious of your calloused, sports-weathered hands, you focused on not clinging to her and let go reluctantly. 

“Sorry about that,” you muttered, feeling warmth creep up your face. “Ren and I have this ongoing joke, and—”

“I know, he told me about it. It’s pretty funny, I think.”

“Really?” you asked, your head bouncing up eagerly. “He always thinks it’s stupid.”

“It’s kind of endearing... Oh, that reminds me. U-um, Ren told me you were going to drop by, so I made you your favourite.” She placed the latte you always ordered on the counter, hiding her face behind one small hand bashfully. Her eyelashes fluttered as she continued, speaking to the counter in a shy mumble. “I always see you order this, so I thought I might make one for you as a gift. I hope you enjoy.”

 _Am I being blessed?_ you thought distantly, bowing your head to Shimizu almost numbly as thanks. _Is this what it’s like to be chosen by an angel?_

You took a sip, and it was sweeter than ever, made with the touch of hopeful love.


	5. At A Club [5] Yuuji Terushima

You honest-to-god had no idea how you’d fucked up so badly.

Maybe it all started from the beginning. One day, long ago, you’d let your friend eat your entire lunch even though your mom had made your favourite. She had said she’d forgotten hers, but you saw her eating another bento later in the day. At the time you had thought it was okay to help a friend out. But from then and now you had let yourself been walked all over, to the point where people dubbed you the ‘Doormat’. It wasn’t as if you were naïve enough to think that you _weren’t_ being manipulated or used. But you were terrified of the prospect of letting somebody down, so you let yourself be used. This time, it had been fake IDs. You knew a guy who knew a girl who knew a person who’d fucked this person that made fake IDs. A group of girls who were faker than Cheezwhiz had caught on, and begged you.

“If you help us get those IDs, you’ll be doing us a real favour,” the lead girl said coquettishly, batting her glued on eyelashes. If you looked closely you could see the crust at the base of her poorly blended eye shadow. You had really, really wanted to tell them to shove it… but the others knew your personality all too well.

“You’re the only one that can help us!” one whined.

“We don’t know what we’ll do without you. Please, I’m begging of you!”

“Fine,” you’d snapped. You hated yourself for giving in. But still, you went and had fake IDs done for them. You hoped and prayed that they’d leave you alone after that, but instead, they insisted on carting you along. To where? A club. Your worst nightmare. Unnecessarily loud noises? Check. Drunk idiots? Check. People? Check. You would’ve liked to flake on them, but they had done the same guilt-tripping act. ‘It’ll be so much fun. We really need you there!’ ‘We need to have an even party, so we absolutely need you to come with us!’ You knew that they only wanted to befriend you to get more out of you, but you went anyways, scowling the entire ride with the hope that you’d ruin all their selfies. 

After getting there, they immediately ditched you. That was fine with you, but you were still stewing in anger and bitterness. The music deafened you; the strobe lights blinded you; the smell of sweat and sex disgusted you; and the _closeness_ of everybody made you nauseous. At one point you decided to give in and order a drink. When the bartender gave you that eyebrow-raised ‘what do you think you’re even trying to pull here’ look, you lost confidence in yourself and ordered a water instead. He rolled his eyes and slid it across the table. The bar was mostly empty, as the majority of people were busy grinding on the dance floor. You sighed and was about to take a sip of your drink before somebody forcefully yanked it out of your hand.

“What the hell?” you demanded, screaming over the bass. A boy with a bleached undercut dumped the water onto the ground, giving you a sly look. You glowered back, not having the energy to raise your voice any louder. All people were just out to get you, you decided, and got up. The other girls wouldn’t care if you left. In fact, they probably had no idea where you were right now. You took the back exit out and leant against the wall, sighing in the cold night.

“You were about to get roofied, you know?”

You screeched with shock and jumped, clutching your heart. The boy that had spilled your drink onto the floor stood beside you, a plastic bottle of generic water in his hand. He held it out to you, but your brow furrowed, and you made no move to take it.

“How do you know that?” you asked warily.

“I saw the bartender put ‘em in your drink, duh. Besides, you’re not even supposed to be here, are you?”

“You…” you struggled to find words for a witty retort, but he’d hit it the nail right on the head, and you really had no proper response. He grinned, his strikingly white teeth almost gleaming with malice.

“Me neither. I’m still 17.”

“How did you know that I was underage too?” you asked, still not inclined to accept his water (especially after the roofie comment), but a bit more open to conversation. He squatted low to the ground, joining your seat on the stairs heavily.

“You go to Johzenji, don’t you?”

“Yeah…”

“Same. I’m Terushima Yuuji. Second year superstar volleyball player?” He gave you a flirty smile but you blinked in response.

“…never heard of him.”

“You live under a rock, then.” He placed the water on the step behind you and put his hands up in the air, yawning widely as he stretched. He gave you another side-glance until grudgingly, you took the water bottle, unscrewing the sealed cap and taking a small sip. He smiled wryly.

“Look, if you want to go home, you probably should. You don’t look like you’re having the time of your life.”

“I’m not,” you admitted, with a self-deprecating laugh. “I let myself get dragged all the way out here for nothing.”

“Same.”

You gave him a pointed look. “Sorry if I sound rude, but you don’t seem anything like me. I thought you would’ve went to a place like this on your own volition.”

“Yeah, I look like the kind of asshole who’d wanna do that, right? Which is exactly why my upperclassmen took me out. I don’t really care much for it. Sure, it’s a good time, but there’s nothing wrong with just hanging out at the park or something.”

“…Terushima, was it?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re a pretty smart guy.”

“Do I look dumb to you? I’m the one who just saved you from getting all drugged up!” His indignant pout and wild hand gestures made you crack a smile and you laughed a bit.

“I’m sorry. You’re right. Thanks, I guess.”

“Say,” he said suddenly, getting to his feet. “D’you wanna get out of here together?” He held a hand out for you to hold. Your brow knit together and you looked up at him sceptically.

“Why would somebody like you want to hang out with somebody like me?”

He shrugged. “It’s time for me to do what I want to do. Not what somebody else does. And something tells me you’re the same.”

You sighed begrudgingly, but took his hand, allowing him to haul you up to your feet. You clutched the bottle of water in one hand and held his in the other, seeing as he wouldn’t let go of you.


	6. Shared Hobby [6] Tobio Kageyama

It had been going on for quite a while now, but you were certain of it.

You were being followed.

It had started as a weird tingling sensation on your neck, as if there was a constant stare directed on you at all times. You’d turn to look, but nobody was there. No matter where you were—class, at home, in the _bathroom_ —you felt as if something was off. You mentioned it to your friends, and they joked that maybe you had a stalker. It was a funny jab at the time, but you were starting to actually believe it.

“Who’s there?!” you yelped, whipping around suddenly and pointing accusatorily. There was nobody in the hall except for you and yourself. You lowered your arm, eyes darting around suspiciously. Were you going insane? Maybe you shouldn’t have stayed up all night to bingewatch crappy shoujou animes after all. 

“Hey, get to class!”

You were shooed away by a teacher whose lesson had been disrupted by your sudden shouting. As you were marched away, Tobio Kageyama wiped sweat off of his forehead from behind the corner.

With a firm admonition from the principal and a less-than-sincere apology, you were let go. Speedily, you jogged down the halls towards the exit so that you could make it to the gym in time for practice. Before you could even take a step on the stairs, you felt that sickening feeling behind you again. As if there were pins digging into your flesh. Your gut coiled tightly and you felt your heart drop.

“Ahh!” you screamed meaninglessly, at a loss for better word choice. You whirled around, kicking out at the air with your eyes squeezed shut. To both yours and your mystery follower’s surprise, your foot connected, and a body stumbled backwards. 

“I-I’m sorry!” you gasped as the dark-haired boy bent over, struggling to catch his breath. You put your foot down hastily and bowed low, berating yourself mentally for being such an idiot. “I shouldn’t have done that—”

“I’ve been the one following you,” the boy wheezed in a totally flat tone, turning his face up to you. His eyes were a deep blue and startlingly clear. Although his face was still twisted with pain, there was an odd look of determination in his expression, one that made you swallow nervously.

“So… there _was_ somebody following me!” You resisted the urge to pump the air with your fist with triumph, knowing that you’d just look like a sad loser. Instead you cocked your head and squinted at him suspiciously. “But… why?”

“You play volleyball, right?”

You blinked. What kind of a question was that? Usually people stalked other people for money, sex, or… or anything else the movies said. But to follow a girl because she played _volleyball_? Who even was this kid?

“Yes,” you admitted slowly, wondering if you should be telling the truth to this weirdo. He was wearing the same school uniform as you, and looked the same age. So it wasn’t as if he was an intruder. But you still felt a little apprehensive about somebody who openly admitted to following you for weeks. (And for the record: you were right about being stalked, and felt a little flattered about being important enough for somebody to actively tail you.)

“What position are you?” he asked in a sharp, whip-like fashion.

“…wing spiker.”

“Can I set for you?”

You were seriously getting weirded out now, and his intense stare was… unsettling, at the very least.

“Why? If you play, why don’t you ask one of the boys to spike?”

A flicker of both annoyance and sorrow went across his features and you decided that there was a deeper story that you didn’t know yet.

“Please, I’m begging you. I’ve watched you play and I need you to help me with my sets.” He bowed low enough to match your previous one and you waved your hands awkwardly, feeling the curious looks of fellow classmates moving towards you.

“Look, I have practice right now, okay? But…”

“But?” he asked, speaking to the floor. 

You didn’t really know what you were doing. It would’ve been easy enough to say ‘no’ and run away. You were about to decline, too, but something in the resolve of his voice and posture made you hesitate. Surely, you could hit a few of his spikes? What would be so bad about that? 

“Maybe afterwards,” you blurted out, half-regretting it. You sighed. “What’s your name?”

He blinked at you, his face set in a disgruntled scowl, as if he hardly smiled. Which is why it startled you when he grinned lopsidedly, pointing at himself.

“Kageyama Tobio.”

“Okay then, Kageyama-kun. Let me tell you something.”

“What?”

“Don’t follow girls around if you just want to ask a normal question like that! What are you, stupid?!”

“Ow—stop hitting me, you’ve already kicked me once!”


	7. Restaurant [7] Taketora Yamamoto

“What the hell?”

You and your friend frowned at each other, unsure of what you both were seeing. You pointed towards the table that had been reserved for all of you.

“Why are there people at our reserved table?” you asked the waiter, less annoyed with the staff than the large group of guys who were currently crammed into the booth. It was your friend’s birthday and the entire squad had decided to go out for dinner for her special day. The sushi place in question was famous for its prized toro, and all of you had been looking forwards to it since forever. That particular table had been booked for months in advance, for god’s sake—so why were there a bunch of idiotic looking boys sitting there?!

“I-I’m sorry, but I asked for his name and he said it was Yamamoto Taketora… The reservation was for a… Tora?”

“Yes,” Tora Yamato said, stepping forwards slightly with a sheepish wave. “It was for me.”

“I’m so sorry, really, I am… I was so rushed that I didn’t look closely to see if the names truly matched. I am so sorry!” The waiter bowed profusely, but it wouldn’t change the fact that the boys had crashed the party before it even begun. A flash of yellow caught your eye as you were glaring at them resentfully and you decided that you would take things into your own hands.

“[Name]-chan!” Rui, the birthday girl, hissed at you hastily. She grasped your arms with both hands to tug you back. “Don’t you dare do what I think you’re going to do. We can go to another sushi place!”

“But Rui!” you argued hotly, “it’s your birthday. You’ve wanted to eat here for months! It’s impossible to get a table without a reservation! If we ask them to move, and explain the mishap, I’m sure they’ll get out of the way.”

“‘Ask them to move?’” Kyou scoffed dryly, pushing glasses up her frail nose. “They’re boys. I think they go to Nekoma, too. All the guys in our school are gross. They wouldn’t move even though it’s Rui’s birthday.”

“Besides, look at that guy.” The one in question had stood up for a toast, clinking glasses of iced tea and soft drinks with his friends. He had a shaved head save for a mohawk, dyed blonde. Although he was grinning at his friends, he looked like he could’ve scowled a person out of existence. He was tall for a Japanese boy and was built like an ox. You knew what Kyou was going to say next.

“You’ll die if you try to go up against him,” Kyou offered bluntly, the way she always did. You bristled, not one to be told what to do.

“Try me,” you spat at Kyou, taking her words as a challenge. Kyou’s amber eyes widened somewhat as you stalked off towards the table.

“Hey, idiot! What are you—”

You ignored her and slammed your palm down on the table that should’ve been yours, startling the group of boys. Assuming that the Mohawk boy was the group’s leader, you glared at him in the eyes. 

“You!” you barked, “this table was reserved for my friend’s birthday. What right do you have to storm in here and take it from us?!”

A distance away, you heard Atsuko mutter, “so much for asking them to move politely.”

You ignored her, slamming your fist onto the table again so hard that one of the boys’ water spilled, sloshing over the table. You glowered at the mohawk boy, ignoring the stinging pain in your hand.

“I demand an apology to Rui! And I want you out! This is our table, and I refuse to give it up to you jerks.”

The table was silent and all eyes turned to the mohawk boy. He sighed gently and stood, cracking his knuckles in rapid succession. You swallowed thickly, craning your neck upwards. All right, well, you didn’t think that he was going to actually throw hands down in the middle of a restaurant, but it seemed that you were mistaken. At least your friends might appreciate this noble sacrifice of yours—

“I’m sorry!”

The boy bowed low enough that his forehead knocked against the table. His hands were clasped behind his back and his friends were just as confused as you were.

“O-oi, Yamamoto. We came all this way. This girl can’t _make_ us move!” 

Although his words pissed you off, he was right. They had already received their order; it wasn’t as if you had any authority behind your whining to kick them out. However, mohawk boy (or as you knew him now, Yamamoto) shook his head and whispered out the side of his mouth.

“I can’t talk to girls, man. Let’s just go!” He looked back at you before glancing away and bowed once more, obscuring his face. “We’ll take care of the bill. I hope your friend has a happy birthday!” With that he stood, squared his jaw, and dashed away. His friends gaped after him, as did you. But you recognized your victory swiftly and glared at the rest of the boys until they got up sheepishly, muttering happy birthdays under their breaths awkwardly. 

“You really did it!” Kyou said incredulously as the wait staff began to clear away the table. Atsuko prodded you in the ribs.

“How’d you get the guy to blush so hard? What’d you promise him for this table?”

“Nothing!” you insisted, “he just ran away on his own.”

“Maybe we’ll see him around at school,” Rui offered, settling in at her place. “Either way, you got us our table back. Thanks, [Name]-chan.”

You beamed and sat too, the image of the flustered Yamamoto getting pushed back for the time being. 

The following few weeks, you’d forgotten the incident entirely. Rui’s birthday had gone well and your attention had shifted to the upcoming exams. As you walked, your pencil case slipped out of your over-stuffed bookbag. You groaned and turned around to pick it up, half bent over to find that somebody was already handing it to you.

“M-mohawk boy!” you blurted out, not thinking too straight as the constant cramming had fried your brain. You took your pencil case back from him, a bit embarrassed with the outburst. “I mean… you. Sorry I kicked you out so rudely that day, I just…”

“No!” he shouted back, so loudly that you flinched. “I am sorry! The waiter must have taken me to the wrong table that night… I’m sorry we inconvenienced you!”

At this point you were less concerned about his apology and more about the fact that he was still yelling. Red-faced, he inhaled sharply before thrusting something into your face.

“Please, take these and give your friend my apologies!”

“Fl-flowers…?” You examined the bouquet, feeling a bit of warmth creep into your own cheeks. “You really didn’t have to do that… um?”

“Y-y-y-yamamoto Taketora! I’m not really good with girls, so… then, I’m off.” He turned heel and sprinted away again, gone so quickly that he left a ghostly image of himself behind. You glanced back down to your flowers and found yourself smiling.

Well, you certainly wouldn’t forget about him this time.

Down the hall around the corner, Yamamoto was close to fainting, his heart racing. He swiped the nervous tears from his eyes and clutched his chest dramatically, wheezing to his friend.

“When I die, tell her I loved her.”

His friend kicked him in the stomach. 

“You don’t even know her name, idiot!”


	8. Wedding [8] Keishin Ukai

Weddings were miserable.

Maybe it was cynical of you to think so, but what other truth was there? Going to weddings was damn miserable, because as the groom kissed the bride, you realized just how lonely you were. The grandeur reminded you of how single you were, and as you walked through the crowds of smiling faces and plus ones, you felt as if nothing else could scream out “I’M LONELY” more than the several flutes of champagne you had already knocked back. You were almost on a first-name basis with the bartender at this point. 

You sighed, picking at your dinner as people cheered together on the dance floor. You didn’t really know why you’d even gone. A fellow faculty member had invited you, but you could have declined. It wasn’t as if you were close friends with the Japanese Literature teacher—in fact, now that you were thinking about it, you didn’t think you even knew his first name. 

“Damn,” you groaned aloud, reaching out for another champagne glass. Before you could grab it, a pair of deft fingers swiped it from underneath yours. You turned and looked, raising your eyebrows at the sight of a man with bleached blond hair and several ear piercings. It was surreal to see a guy like that in a suit at a formal event, and you blinked twice.

“That was mine,” you said, fairly stupidly (as the alcohol was already setting in), and pointed at the champagne flute. The man grinned and chugged it, the very action that was the opposite of how you were supposed to sip at a dainty drink like expensive champagne. 

“Now it’s _mine_. I think you had too much to drink.”

“What? You don’t me kno—I mean, you don’t even know me!” you protested. He pointed at his cheeks and you touched your own, feeling the heat under your fingertips. Ah, so you’d been caught.

“I’m Ukai Keishin. You?”

You hesitated, but perhaps the bubbly drinks or your own loneliness let you cave in to giving your name to the stranger fairly easily. He cocked his head.

“You work at Karasuno, right?”

“Yeah, how’d you know?”

“I’m a friend of a friend of a friend of a… friend.” He looked confused by himself, his brown eyes turning up to the ceiling. Looking back at you with a grin, he added hastily, “I coach the boy’s volleyball club.”

“Oh, I see. So you’re _not_ just some guy at a wedding?” you teased. He laughed slightly, looking down at his feet sheepishly.

“I don’t really know why I came. Free food?”

“Free food,” you agreed. “Whose wedding are we at?”

He laughed again and you found yourself wanting to make him laugh even more just so that you could hear it again. Despite the intimidating appearance and the strong ashy scent of cigarette smoke coming off of him, he seemed like a nice enough guy.

“Thanks,” he said, and you realized you’d just said your thoughts out loud.

“Ah, I’m so sorry! I seem so unprofessional…”

“That’s cool. You know Takeda Ittetsu, right?”

“Yeah, he’s the one who invited me.”

“He’s a teacher too, but the guy really knows how to party.” Ukai chuckled at an old memory, fondness softening his face. You looked away to make sure you didn’t gawk at his face and had a smile of your own.

“How about we ditch then?” you suggested. “There’s a twenty-four that has pretty good sashimi fifteen minutes from here.”

“I’m down,” he agreed quickly. “Seeing happy couples makes me feel kind of sick.”

You snorted with amusement, maybe embarrassingly so, but he didn’t seem to notice. You didn’t even know him for more than ten minutes but he was already making you laugh, making your heart flutter, your face warm… despite having worked in a high school for so long, a jolt of realization hit you. Were you having a crush? You, a grown ass woman, having a _crush_ , on a guy you’d just laid eyes on. How juvenile of you.

“I’ll call a taxi because neither of us can drive. Sound good?” He looked at you expectantly.

“I’m not as think as you drunk I am!” you protested, before your brow furrowed and you held out your fingers to count the syllables. “Wait… no, I’m not as—”

“You seem all right,” he said with another laugh, hiding it behind a hand. You wished he hadn’t so that you could’ve seen his smile. “Maybe this wedding wasn’t such a bad idea after all.”

“You said that out loud.”

He paled. “Shit, did I? I mean—”

The night continued like that. As the bride and groom (whose names you still could not remember for the life of you) celebrated their own union of everlasting love together, you were on the path of finding your own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, it's a PATD reference; I appreciate the fact that you may also like the song, but I don't want to see another review/comment pointing it out. It's too much after 20 of them. If you've nothing to say about what I've written, PATD fan, then you do not need to leave a review at all. Apologies.


	9. Blind Date [9] Keiji Akaashi

You didn’t even know it was possible to sweat this much.

Your phone buzzed relentlessly in your purse as your friends pestered you for details. What details were there to give? It was a _blind_ date for a reason, and you had no idea how you had allowed yourself to be set up for this in the first place. All you knew was that he was in the same grade at you—went to Fukurodani as a volleyball player—and was named Akaashi Keiji. It wasn’t a whole lot. Actually, it was jack, and you were still sweating.

Because of your personality, you had decided to arrive twenty minutes early. Twenty was definitely too much and now you had the full amount of time to steam and fret about what he’d be like. You drank your water nervously. What if he was an asshole? Or worse yet, what if he was _nice_ and then realized _you_ weren’t his type?

A bunch of conspiracies had drifted around your group of friends on what he looked like. One girl argued that he had to be tall—but another countered that by saying that he could’ve been a libero and short. One said he had to have hair dyed ash red and another agued that his hair would be naturally virgin black. Your head had spun with all the possibilities and even now you didn’t have a clear image in your head when you thought of him.

What was even the point of a blind date? You should’ve thought this through. Better yet, you should have declined when you had the chance, because you were about to have a mental breakdown with just the thought of what was coming up. It was too rude to ditch two minutes before a date, right? A quick look at your watch told you that you only had _one_ —

“[Surname]-san?”

You almost screamed.

“A-Akaashi-san?” you asked stiffly in a voice that was two octaves higher than your own, standing up stick straight. You extended a hand and he shook it, his large hand cold from the biting cold winter outdoors. Despite the chill from his fingers, the feel of his callouses across your hand made you feel as if you’d been shocked and it took every fibre of your being not to jerk away from him and hold your hand close to your chest.

“Sorry I’m late,” he said in a soft voice, running a hand through perfectly messy hair. Could hair even be messy in a way that wasn’t? “My friend…” Akaashi sighed in defeat. “He was a nuisance.”

“You’re not even late,” you reassured with a laugh, sitting back down. You weren’t sure of what to say next and fiddled with the end of your napkin. What did people even do in these situations?

“Well, I’m glad. But I have to be honest with you on something.” Akaashi’s tone suddenly grew serious and your heartbeat raged in your ears.

“U-um, okay. Go ahead.”

“I didn’t exactly consent to this blind date myself…” He scratched his head, looking bashful about something. “That friend of mine set it up. But I didn’t really have the heart to disagree when he was so excited about it.”

“Me too!” you realized, your exact situation being retold in his words. “I didn’t want to upset them or make them feel bad when they just wanted the best for me.”

He nodded in agreement, a flicker of light coming alive in his dark eyes. “You just don’t want to disappoint them, so you go along with it—”

“—even though you don’t really want to,” you finished. You smiled slightly, feeling a bit of ease and relief after the short exchange with him. “I guess we’re more alike than I thought, Akaashi-san.”

“Keiji works fine. You know, I thought I wouldn’t want to show up at all…” He gave you a closer look before smiling crookedly, looking down at his plate with another embarrassed tinge of red across his pale skin. “But I’m glad I did.”

You started sweating again, but this time, it was because you knew you already liked him.


	10. Park [10] Shouyou Hinata

Every day you walked home, you liked to shortcut through a park. There wasn’t any particular reason to why you did it other than it cut down your travel time by a few minutes. There was a large field, a couple of cherry blossom trees that looked nice in spring but just like any other in winter, and two cruddy swings that had been rusted over for years. But that was pretty much it. 

Tonight was a horrifyingly frigid day. Even with the snow, the wind chill brought temperatures down below -20, and you were running to preserve warmth and shave off the time you had to spend outdoors. The ground was icy and your breath seemed to freeze in your nostrils. It was a cold day.

You turned and stepped foot into the park, your every step careful to make sure you didn’t slip. Although you would’ve liked to play in the snow, it wasn’t wet and was so cold it remained fluffy and dry. It was practically useless for making snowmen or snowballs. You pulled your scarf over your face as you trundled along. As you did, you passed somebody. Stopping, you turned back to make sure you saw what you saw.

“Um… excuse me?”

“What?” The boy who also looked to be your age turned, pale face turned red with cold burn. 

“Are you… really playing volley outside right now?” You pointed a mitten at the ball in his arms. He looked down at it and looked back at you with a grin that seemed to melt the frozen ice off of face.

“Yeah, well, the gym was closed and there’s not enough room at home or in my yard.”

“But it’s cold!” you protested, very aware that you were stating the obvious. “You shouldn’t be playing outside when it’s this cold.”

“But I have a practice game and I have to win!” he protested emphatically. “It’s hard practicing receives by yourself but it’s the least I can do…” he started muttering to himself and you shifted your backpack straps awkwardly. Well, the most logical thing to do was to leave the odd stranger and keep going home. But instead, you sighed, the huff bringing a cloud in front of your face.

“What’s your name?” you asked timidly.

“Me? Oh, uh… Hinata Shouyou.” He looked stunned to be asked that and cocked his head to the side, white fluff falling from his startlingly orange hair. “What about you?”

“[Surname] [Name]. I go to the school a little ways away.”

“What?! Me too!”

The affirmation that he went to the same school as you and was wearing the same school uniform made you feel a bit more at ease. “Um… if you don’t mind, why don’t you come home with me? We have a really big backyard and I can help you with receives. That is, if you want.” You tacked the last part on hastily, remembering that you were just another stranger offering to escort the other boy home. 

“You play volleyball?” he asked excitedly, stepping towards you.

“A little,” you admitted. “I like it when we play in gym at school.”

“Great! Sure, I’ll come with you!” He threw a hand in the air with a cheer before slipping on a patch of black ice, tumbling onto his behind. He took your hand as you hastily helped him up and smiled at you again, your numb face tingling at the sight of it. “Thanks, man!”

“M-man?” you mumbled. “I’m a girl…”

Suddenly he let go of your hand with a shriek. “Y-you are?! I’m so sorry, I couldn’t tell with the scarf and the jacket and—”

“It’s okay,” you said wryly. You gestured forwards. “Do you want to go?”

Suddenly very red, and not from the cold, Hinata nodded. “O-o-okay, if you say so!”

To this day, his obsession for the sport only grew. But that passion might’ve fuelled his liking for you, too.


	11. Aquarium [11] Kentarou Kyoutani

Maybe it was nerdy of you, but you liked to go to the local aquarium. 

Miyagi Prefecture boasted a particularly large aquarium and even luckier for you, it was in your city. You went there often because your father was a researcher there, and you even had a VIP pass. It was always relaxing to go and watch the fish swim. In the tropical section, the colours of the fish were psychedelic and made your head spin. If you walked to the larger tanks, you could see penguins, manatees, and even a shark if he decided to come out. They all had distinct personalities and having known them for years, you got fairly attached.

As you made your rounds around the aquarium, you noticed one guy standing alone. He looked like he was in high school, like you, and you looked around for a school he might’ve been attached to. It was a weekend but you assumed that he had to be a part of a field trip—after all, nobody your age was weird enough to like to go to aquariums by themselves, save for you. Only couples or adults roamed around the room, their faces backlit with blue, and you decided that he was probably lost or separated. Walking up to him, you smiled friendlily. 

“Excuse me… did you need help finding anything?” you asked. You might as well have been a staff member with how well you knew the place. He surprised you by glaring at you. With his shaved head of bleach blond hair, a sudden cool trickle of intimidation went down your spine.

“The shark.”

He startled you out of your nervous reverie with the blunt growl. You caught yourself but stuttered anyways.

“U-uh, the shark? What about the shark?”

“Where is it.”

He sounded both lifeless and angry at the same time, which was quite a feat. His eyes were sunken and dark and he looked like he could probably kick your ass to the moon and back if you made him mad enough.

“The shark! Right, um, he’s in the next room over. That way.” You pointed. He followed your finger with a mildly disinterested gaze. You swallowed thickly. “Do you… do you want me to take you there?”

“I don’t _want_ you to do anything for me,” he replied hotly. “But if you’re going to go, I’m going in the same direction anyways.”

 _So… you do want me to take you?_ you wondered to yourself. You pressed your lips together to conceal a smile.

“What’s your name?” you asked as you walked towards the Deep Sea Exhibit.

“Why do you want to know?” he asked confrontationally. With a snort, he laughed. “But I’ll tell you anyways since you’re so interested. Kyoutani Kentarou.”

“[Surname] [Name],” you replied cheerfully, your anxiety dying away fast when you realized the kind of person Kyoutani was. He scowled.

“Who said I wanted to know?”

You giggled to yourself, unable to contain your amusement. He towered over you and still looked like he could kick your ass, but a delinquent wouldn’t spend his time looking for the shark exhibit on a Saturday afternoon. 

“You’re a weird girl,” he muttered to himself as the both of you entered the room. It seemed to be a lucky day because Rin, the beloved Japanese bullhead shark, was drifting around lazily. Kyoutani’s eyes widened with delight and you couldn’t help but feel his happiness radiate onto you.

“You’re a weird guy yourself. Want me to tell you about Rin?”

“I don’t want to hear you say anything. But if you’re going to run your mouth, I have no choice but to listen.”

“Okay. Well, Rin here…”

The both of you lost yourselves in the aquarium’s unique way of stopping time, memories made while being backlit by blue.


	12. Airport [12] Takanobu Aone

You couldn’t believe it. You were going to miss your transnational flight, and for what? Because you were too _short_ to get to the gate.

“E-excuse me, please… excuse me…” you sighed, defeated, as the taller men and women ignored you. You were too soft-spoken and passive to ask them to move forcefully, and at this rate, you weren’t going to board. Your name was being PA’d and you could hear them calling for you. _I’m here!_ you wanted to scream. But you didn’t. You cursed yourself for being so socially awkward and started wondering how expensive it would be to take a later flight.

“Are you [Surname] [Name]?”

The deep, resonant voice that sounded like thunder seemed to shake your bones and you froze. You turned around and then looked up, _up_ , and _up some more_ , meeting the eyes of a man who looked like a vengeful giant. You nearly screamed or fainted but he pointed down at you, continuing without your input. “You’re late to the boarding call.”

“I-I know,” you replied hastily. “I just can’t get through to the gate…”

“I see.” He looked at you curiously before turning around and bending over. You stared at his broad back, your hand still clutching your carry-on.

“Um…”

He turned back to look at you, his expression still blank. “Get on. I’ll take you to the gate.”

 _Get on the back of a stranger?!_ You about nearly fainted again but realized that this was probably your only chance of making it there on time. With a million rushed apologies you clambered on gingerly. He lifted you as easily as he’d carry a child and picked up your suitcase too, walking through the masses of people with no difficulty at all.

“Thank you sir,” you said again, feeling that a million of those couldn’t express your gratitude. It was fairly comfortable, even with his strong arms wrapped around your legs, and seeing past the tuft of white you finally felt what it was like to be tall. 

“Why are you calling me sir?” he asked with a hint of genuine curiosity. “I’m only in my second year of high school.”

You almost fainted again. You’d thought he was at least thirty.

“I’m sorry!” you shrieked. “Thank you, though! Really, I appreciate it!”

He dropped you off at the gate and the attendant stared at you with some amusement. He pointed to the entrance.

“I’m also on this flight,” he explained. “So I went out to find you when they couldn’t find you.”

“Oh… thank you again.” You bowed to him and looked up, feeling your face grow hot. “What’s your name?”

“Aone Takanobu.”

“Oh!” you gasped suddenly, recognizing the name from your school paper. “So you’re on the Datekou volleyball team, right?”

He blinked and nodded. He cocked his head at you as if he wanted to say something else before somebody ran up. Beside him, a boy with brown hair clapped him on the shoulder and laughed.

“Man, I haven’t heard Aone talk this much in like, two years! He must really like you.” The boy winked at you before dragging Aone back towards the plane. “Come on, man. The coach is getting worried. Maybe you’ll see her when we land in Hokkaido.”

You watched them go, a wondrous smile still on your face as Aone raised a gigantic hand to wave goodbye at you. You waved back, not forgetting the warmth of his arms.


	13. Train [13] Hajime Iwaizumi

You hated being on the train. Most of all, you hated being on the train during rush hour. People slammed into you from all sides as they desperately tried to get a foot inside the door. The beeping and mechanical pleas to _please stand clear of the doors, as this train is trying to depart_ buzzed onto the intercom over and over as people kept piling in. Finally, not even another hair could fit, and the train slid out of the station smoothly. You kind of regretted getting onto this one. The warm bodies pressing in around you made it impossible for you to really fall, but the train driver seemed to be having a bad day and kept accelerating before decelerating suddenly, throwing you forwards and backwards systematically. With nothing to hold onto, you tried to steel your balance in your toes, apologizing profusely when you fell backwards onto an unsuspecting old man.

“Oi, [Surname].”

You didn’t think you recognized the voice. It was strangely familiar but you merely assumed that somebody was talking to somebody else. After all, the train was bursting with an amount of people that could found a whole nation.

“God. [Surname]. [Name], dammit!”

“Wh-what?” You looked around now, your eyes meeting the dark ones of somebody you recognized as a classmate. He was scowling deeply and rolled his eyes, marching up to you, muttering ‘excuse mes’ as he pushed and prodded people out of the way.

“Um… do I know you?” you asked, feeling a bit nervous. The boy was much taller than you and had a gruff expression, like he’d be willing to kick you into the sun at any moment if he felt like it. You knew him by face, but you didn’t think that you’d ever said anything to him before in your life. His eyes widened and you realized that he was probably offended.

“Iwaizumi Hajime. I’m in your homeroom.”

“O-oh! Right, no, I remember!”

“You don’t,” he shot back wryly. You squirmed uncomfortably under his gaze.

“…sorry. I just… I’m bad with names. But I know you!” You winced as the train suddenly slowed again, throwing you forwards into him. You realized that’d you’d pulled a stupid shoujou move by planting your face into the middle of his chest and veered backwards as best as you could, wanting to hold up a hand to apologize, but not even being able to. 

“You’re hopeless,” he muttered. “Hold onto me.”

“What?”

“I said, _hold onto me_.” His ears did not match the rest of his tanned complexion, growing a rosy pink as he turned away. You looked up and noticed that his arm made a right angle with the support loops and awkwardly reached a hand up, curling it around his bicep. You could feel his muscle flex—as if just holding onto him wasn’t strange enough already—and felt dizzy.

“Thanks,” you muttered, unable to look at him, your gaze directed hard onto the ground. Good thing too, because it wasn’t just his ears that were bright red.


	14. Arranged Marriage [14] Wakatoshi Ushijima

“She’s a single mother, like me. Her son is just a little older than you, too. And you both go to Shiratorizawa!”

“And I care _why_?”

“Ushijima-san is worried that her son—Wakatoshi-kun—might not find anybody, since he’s so busy with volleyball.”

“You’re telling me… that you want me to hook up with the ‘volleyball guy’?” you asked bluntly, already knowing from your mother’s fidgeting that she was going to say something as ridiculous as this.

“W-Well, you already know him, don’t you? The two of you are in the same grade!”

“I don’t know half the people in my grade,” you responded bitterly. “But yeah, I know him. Who doesn’t? He’s the famous jock who looks like he’s always gotta take a shit.”

“Do not use such vulgar language!” your mother snapped, slapping your arm. You rubbed the skin sorely. “Honey, I’m not forcing you on him or anything. I just think that for this little get together, you should say hi to him… get to know him! It would be good for the both of you to do something other than studying or sports. I’m sure girls would kill for the chance to even talk to him!”

“Just because you work with his mom doesn’t mean we’ll have a relationship,” you groaned, rubbing your temples to stave off the oncoming migraine. “And I don’t _need_ a boyfriend! I need to work hard to get this scholarship, that’s what I need—”

“That’s just it,” your mother snapped, cutting you off. “You’ve always got your nose in your books. When are you going to look up and realize that life’s passed you by?”

“Life hasn’t passed me by. I’m still alive. Unfortunately…”

“Please, honey. Just give him a chance.”

“Mom—”

She glared at you so fiercely that your mouth closed on its own. You inhaled and scowled, but said nothing.

“See?” she said sweetly, as if she hadn’t just given you the Look of Death. “All I want is for you to talk to him at the dinner.”

“You’re just setting me up in an arranged marriage situation that’s doomed to fail before it’s begun. I don’t even know what he likes, dislikes… his favourite colour… I don’t even really know what he wants in a girl, mom.”

“Then all the better to learn! Now get dressed, we’ll leave in a few hours!” She walked out of your room with an extra spring in your step, and you groaned again, knowing that you would end up doing what she said to make her happy.

\---

Again, you had no idea why you’d even came in the first place. Your mother’s co-worker apparently did these types of parties for the holidays every year, but you guessed your mother got heartbroken by thinking about you sitting around the house alone and dragged you along this time.

“Remember what I said about Ushijima-san’s son?” she asked, pulling your collar higher up and fixing your hair. You rolled your eyes.

“I’m telling you, he won’t like me.”

“Not with that attitude he won’t!” she chided. Before she could launch into another speech, the door opened. The two women squealed and embraced as you extended a friendly yet awkward smile. The only redeeming quality about this situation was that nobody was supervising the drinks, and you managed to score a tall glass of… something.

To give yourself credit, you had _tried_ to look around for him. You’d even sacrificed your dignity and pride and asked somebody where Ushijima Wakatoshi was—but they said that they hadn’t seen him all night. That seemed weird to you, seeing as this was his own house, so how could he not be spotted? But as the ‘something’ concoction you’d whipped up for yourself was settling in, you stopped caring less and less until you pretty much forgot his name entirely. 

You were wandering the halls of the Ushijima house when you heard your mother’s voice drift along the hall. You swore quietly. You didn’t want to face her drunk and without a prospective boyfriend, so you spied a slightly ajar door and pushed it open, hastily tucking it close just as she walked past. Past your raging but sluggish heartbeat, you heard her complain:

“…girl’s such a studier. I wish she’d get out and have a life!”

You sighed with relief as her voice receded. You were fully intent on stepping back outside to dodge her somewhere else when an amused voice said,

“Hello.”

You jumped with shock and whirled around, a hand pressed to your chest as you realized somebody was sitting at his desk. A quick glance got you to realize further that you were standing in somebody’s bedroom. 

“I am so sorry,” you said quickly, “this… isn’t the washroom! My bad! I’ll be on my way—”

“Are you avoiding them?”

“Wh… what?”

Upon closer examination in the dimly lit room, you suddenly realized with a jolt that you were talking to Ushijima Wakatoshi himself. He looked radically different out of the school uniform or gym clothes and in casual wear, a well-fitted cashmere sweater framing his body well. You couldn’t help but gape. You didn’t think he _wore_ anything else. Still, he had the same expression he did in all of his photos—that ‘gotta-take-a-shit’ scowl. 

“I can tell you don’t want to be here. I don’t, either. So you can stay in my room if you’d like.” With that he turned back around in his creaky chair, resuming the writing of something. You felt awkward standing there, and knew that it would’ve probably been the right thing to do to excuse yourself despite the offer—but you were drunk, stupid, and sleepy, so you came a little closer instead.

“You don’t even know my name, do you?” you asked sceptically, Drunk You deciding it would be okay to sit on the edge of his bed. Sober You was screaming in distress as Drunk You ignored her happily, continuing to ramble. “And you’re letting me hang out in your room?”

“I _don’t_ know your name,” he said bluntly, which was kind of annoying since you knew his. But he spared looking at you, which you appreciated. “But I know what it’s like to want out of a social event. Besides, you’re drunk, so it’d be best if you took a nap before you passed out somewhere else.”

“How did you know—”

“Your face is red.” He glanced over and gestured at his bed. “Sleep if you’d like. I won’t bother you and I’ll wake you when it’s time.”

“Huh. Okay.” You touched your hot face and nodded grudgingly. “Um… so, my name’s [Surname] [Name].”

If you had been sober, you would’ve been way too embarrassed to talk to him for longer than a second. If you had been sober, you would’ve been nowhere near him. But you were _not_ sober, so you plonked down on his bed, nestling in his blankets. It felt very slept in and there was a faint scent that you guessed was his. It wrapped around you comfortingly, easing you into sleep.

He glanced over at you later once you were gone, snoozing happily. A rare smile twitched at his face. He didn’t know anybody else who had the guts to waltz into some strange boy’s room and then take a nap in his bed. He rolled his chair to his bedside, giving your arm a tentative poke. You didn’t respond, so he felt safe enough to brush your hair back away from your face.

Prospective boyfriend? Maybe not—hell, probably not for a while—but at least he knew your name.


	15. Online [15] Tadashi Yamaguchi

**Yams !** : [Name], you haven’t gone to bed yet??  
 **[Name] ,** : nope   
**[Name] ,** : im too excited to meet you!!  
 **Yams !** : Don’t be… I’m probably not as interesting as you make me out to be ^^”  
 **[Name] ,** : ill go to sleep if u do  
 **Yams !** : Fine. If I see you go online though…! >:(  
 **[Name] ,** : but that just means ur online 2 ;))  
 **Yams !** : … good night.  
 **[Name] ,** : night <3

It wasn’t strange these days to have friends that you’d never met. But Yamaguchi wasn’t some far off kid. He was somebody at school who actually responded to your plea of loneliness. Apparently, he’d gotten the textbook that you’d scrawled your number in on a whim, and the two of you had become fast friends. He was in your year, too, and the both of you had agreed to meet in a corner of the school gardens. 

Despite the fact that you didn’t really have anything to be nervous about, you still found yourself unable to concentrate because of your anxiety. You didn’t doubt that he was different from how he was over text. Nobody could fake being that cheerful and optimistic for so long. But what if he didn’t like how _you_ were? The power of the screen gave you time to think of witty comebacks and confident-sounding things. 11 point Arial wasn’t enough to convey how much of a mess you were. And what were you going to do when you didn’t know what to say? Stare at him awkwardly? At least over text, you could take some time and pretend you hadn’t read it—but there weren’t read recipients in real life. You were half-serious about cancelling before the lunch bell tolled.

With rubbery-like legs, you slowly crept to the back of the school. It was a nice day, with warm breezes and warmer sun. Your heart was pounding. What would happen if you didn’t show up at all? But then you’d be standing up Yamaguchi, and you couldn’t bear to do anything cruel like that to him. Finally, with a deep breath, you told yourself to suck it up. You walked to the back of the garden and saw somebody with their back turned to you, kicking at a patch of dry grass.

“Yamaguchi?” you asked tentatively, your voice a bit hoarse. You cleared your throat awkwardly. Another thing about texting—he didn’t know that you sounded like an eleven year old boy. But it was too late, because the figure turned, their eyes laden with bright recognition.

“[Name]?”

“Yeah!” You couldn’t help the grin from coming your face as you walked closer. You hid the stupid expression by looking down at the ground, the blush hot on your cheeks. “We’re finally meeting.”

“I… Sorry, I just thought you looked different. I’m trying to match your face with the one in my head, you know?”

With a bit of despair, you couldn’t stop yourself from asking, “how did I look in your head?”

“Not as cute,” he said simply. Suddenly, his pale complexion flushed and he waved his hands. “I-I mean! Um…!”

It was clear that Yamaguchi was doing a ctrl-z in his head as he panicked. You had to cover your own face to hide the redness before you laughed.

“I feel like I’ve known you forever,” you admitted. It was true, too. Just seeing him in front of you made you remember all the nights you spent smiling, your glow backlit by the blue light of your phone. But now, it was real, and you could actually lean forwards and…

“[Name]?!” he yelped.

“S-sorry! Did you not want me to do that?! I-I’m just so excited that I—”

“No! No, this is fine!” Before you could leap away and into a sea of shame, he wrapped his own arms around you, patting you gently on the back the way he couldn’t have through words alone. 

**Yams !** : So… was I any different from how you thought I’d be?  
 **[Name] ,** : nope ~ ur just as awkward >B^]  
 **Yams !** : T^T  
 **[Name] ,** : it’s a good thing!! ur 2 cute!!!!  
 **Yams !** : That’s you we’re talking about, not me! >_>  
 **[Name] ,** : <3<3<3<3<3  
 **Yams !** : How many heart emojis are you going to send?  
 **[Name] ,** : AS MANY AS IT TAKES FOR U TO REALIZE I LOVE U  
 **Yams !** : you love me?  
 **[Name] ,** : YA  
 **[Name] ,** : omg wait   
**Yams !** : _typing_  
 **Yams !** : I love you too…  
 **[Name] ,** : ok cool bcs if u didn't I was gonna jump offa bridge phew  
 **Yams !** : -_-  
 **[Name] ,** : see you tmr?  
 **Yams !** : For sure. <3


	16. Library [16] Kenma Kozume

There were very few people who knew about the best spot in the library. It was tucked away from the nosy librarian’s view, but was still open enough to prevent it from feeling like a prison. It had a window with working blinds, allowing whoever was sitting there to actually control the amount of sun being let in. Best of all, there was only enough room for one person’s stuff, so nobody else would be able to sit by you. It was your favourite place to sit, so understandably, you were devastated when somebody else was there. They had one of the giant chemistry books propped up, hiding their face, and the most you could make out were their dark dress pants. Although disappointed, you had to admit defeat, and slunk off to find a different spot. It was noisy and the sun blinded you, making you shoot off bitter glances towards the prized corner as if the person sitting there might take the hint and buzz off. 

They did not.

Now too annoyed to study, you put away your notes and pulled out your 3DS. The green light flashed at you, but you weren’t surprised—you Streetpassed with a lot of people. You tapped on your Pokemon game, deciding that you might as well procrastinate productively and stat train your Silvally. It was nearly at level 100, and you liked to see your team’s level numbers end in zeroes. Before you could get to running around the grass in circles, you got a battle notification. You raised an eyebrow and looked around, but it didn’t seem like anybody else was playing. Still, you were confident in yourself and accepted, even allowing yourself a smug smile as you waited to see who dared challenge your team.

The smile soon turned upside down when you were absolutely killed. By what?

A goddamn _cutiefly_?

It wasn’t just that day. Every afternoon block you got, you raced to the library, and the coveted seat was taken. And every time you opened your DS, somebody requested to battle you, and they always managed to win with some crap ass Pokemon that managed to slay your best guys. The caterpie was the last straw.

“You!” you hissed as loudly as you could in your inside voice, knocking over the (upside down) chemistry book. It hadn’t taken long for you to put two and two together and sure enough, a boy jumpily looked up at you, a DS in his hands. You pointed at him accusatorily. “You’ve been sitting here in my seat, kicking _my_ ass—”

“That was you?” he asked, blinking rapidly. You waved your DS in his face.

“Yeah, it was _me_! I’m telling you now, if you want to have a _real_ battle, catch these goddamn fists—”

“Shh!”

He had the nerve to wave goodbye at you as the librarian threw you out.

The rest of the day was spent with you sullenly pouting, seething over how a guy like that could’ve upturned your meticulous pro-stratting with such ease. You didn’t even want to play after that, but decided you might as well as you waited for your bus. You opened it and saw the green light. There was a trade request waiting for you. A cutiefly, level 100, nicknamed ‘Sorry’.

Your angers evaporated and you couldn’t help the tiniest smile. You traded him one of your million Skarmory for it, looking up and catching a glimpse of blonde down the hall. You squinted to get a closer look, but it darted away. 

The next day, the seat was empty. You settled down in it, not having enough time to put your bag down when somebody walked up to you. It was the guy. He had a sheepish expression on his face and was clearly uncomfortable, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

“Sorry about completely destroying your team all the time. I, uh, thought you were somebody else. And I’m sorry for sitting here all the time too.” He paused, his golden eyes turning up to the ceiling as if to read notes. Satisfied that he covered everything, he nodded once, turning away.

“Hey, wait!”

He paused mid-retreat as you pursed your lips. Deciding that pettiness wasn’t the answer (just this once), you gestured over at a chair and cleared the table off so that two could share it. 

Needless to say, you brought a smile onto his face when your starter pokemon Sorry popped out of its pokeball, and you found that lopsided grin to be better than anything else. Even adjustable blinds.


	17. College [17] Akiteru Tsukishima

College was a wild place. No more parents, too much freedom—it was a recipe for disaster, but with disaster comes good experiences to look back on. Hopefully.

You didn’t know what to expect, but you probably expected too much. Your first real college memory was when you stumbled across a tall drunken man slamming his hand on your door.

“Guen-chan… open the doooor…”

“Um, excuse me…?”

“Open the door, or I’ll start singing that K-pop song you really hate… okay, here goes—”

“Excuse me!” you yelped with sudden urgency, deciding that his threat was real and far too imminent for your liking. “Can I help you?”

He whirled around, seemingly bewildered to find another human in the dormitory hall full of other people. You raised an eyebrow as he squinted at you, looking as if he were trying to decipher if you were real or not.

“You’re not Guen,” he muttered to himself, as if realizing the secret to life. Now that he was facing you, you realized that he was actually really cute, what with his sandy brown hair and sculpted features. He swayed a bit, holding his head, his brow furrowed in thought as he struggled to remember something.

“I’m not,” you agreed, feeling a bit bad for him. You sighed, somewhat annoyed that the stranger had chosen _your_ door instead of the multitude of others. “Are you lost? This is my room, but—ahh! Oh my god! Are you okay?! Towel, towel—”

He’d thrown up on you.

You’d thought that college was going to be full of wild parties, hot guys and girls, and coming of age… well, if ‘coming of age’ meant cleaning up a grown man’s barf while he wept on your sofa, you didn’t know what was.

“And my little brother, Kei? He’s just entering high school! He’s like, going to be a man! And he won’t even text me back. Which makes sense, ‘cause like, he’s a teenager, but it makes me really sad because he used to be so clingy and now—”

“U-um, Tsukishima-san? That’s really great, but can you go home…?” You sat across from him awkwardly, wondering how you’d become a shrink when your degree was entirely elsewhere.

He sat up, determinedly saluting you for whatever off reason he’d thought of in his alcohol-addled puddle of a brain. You flinched as he began to yell. “Home?! Don’t talk to me about home! Home is my mother’s cooking, home is H-O-M-E! Home is—!”

You groaned, pained, as Tsukishima Akiteru launched off onto another teary speech that made no sense.

The ‘morning after’ was supposed to be dramatic, too. It was when the two of you rolled over in bed, naked, vulnerable… romances spark up, one-night stands turn into something more…!   
Instead, you were greeted with a very hung over man who had annoyed you all night, and had no memory of his entire inconvenient life, either. You didn’t even get anything out of him. You were just saddled with the ‘night after’ experience without the nightstand. It was like ordering a shelf from IKEA and getting an empty box with instructions. Useless. Unwanted!

“I’m really sorry,” Akiteru mumbled, drinking the coffee you’d obligingly made for him. He raised his large, hazel eyes to yours with a small pout, and you felt your heart skip a beat in your chest when your eyes met his. “I’m going to make it up to you, I promise.”

So then came spring break. Exams were over, hook-ups were on the horizon, and all these other college must-dos were chattered about happily. Illegal beer pong! Strip poker! Group outings!

But for once, you didn’t bother to listen in. For once, you didn’t think you had to.

“Ready to meet my parents?” Akiteru asked excitedly, his slender and large hand wrapping around yours as you tried to pack up your suitcase. He was positively bouncing with energy, words flying out of him before you could even reply. “They’re really happy to meet you. Even little Kei!”

“I thought you said he was taller than you, Aki,” you mused teasingly. His expression flashed with surprise.

“I—right! He’s growing up so fast…”

“You’re not even drunk. You have no excuse to cry,” you scolded sternly as his lip wobbled. “You’re a grown man, Tsukishima Akiteru! Pull yourself together!”

“Sorry,” he apologized meekly, pressing a kiss to the top of your forehead. His words were mumbled against your skin, warming you. “I’m just happy for you to go home with me.”

“Don’t forget. You’re still making things up to me.”

“Oh?” Akiteru asked, his eyes sparkling with mischief. He leant down slowly. “Can I make things up by…?”

“Packing for me?” You replied in a gaudily upbeat voice, slapping a hand over your lips so that he kissed your palm instead. You laughed at his sullen expression and couldn’t stop laughing when he dived at you, his hands reaching all the ticklish points you’d never told him about. 

So yeah, maybe you missed out on all those one-night-stands, all the shots, all the partying… but you found an idiotic boy that made you wish that growing up never happened at all.


	18. Party [18] Bokuto Kotaro

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> surprise bitch bet u thought i'd forgotten abt this (i did)

"Hey!"

The greeting was sudden-you hadn't expected any other voices to appear on the rooftop with you-and you jumped up to look behind you. An unfamiliar guy raised his hands to demonstrate that he 'came in peace', each clutching a beer can. You relaxed back into your sitting position and sighed with something like relief with annoyed exasperation.

"Yeah," you replied flatly after he sat beside you without asking. Stealing another glance, you found that he had an absurdly flamboyant hairstyle with spiked white tufts and dark roots. Oh, great. Were you really sitting alone on a highly elevated, non-fenced surface with a weirdo? So much for dying in style.

"Relax, I'm not going to do anything. I just saw you leave and wanted to check up on you. Drink?"

"…sure." You figured that he wouldn't leave you alone otherwise, and saying no to free stuff was a mistake when you were a broke college kid. He handed you the can and you popped it, throwing the tag down into the courtyard. The silver aluminium sparkled and vanished. The reverberating bass of music vibrated the rooftop underneath your heels, and there were still sounds of yelling from other miscellaneous partygoers. 

"The name's Bokuto. You?"

You took a sip and shot him another sideways look. He was looking out over the skyline like you were, looking perfectly relaxed even though you and he were still complete strangers. The night air ruffled his hair.

"[Surname]." You figured it'd be more annoying to have him stare at you expectantly with that hopeful attitude. You shifted your weight a bit uncomfortably, now feeling vulnerable.

"Sweet. I'm Kuroo's roommate. Trust me, I love a good shaker, but sometimes you gotta be by yourself too. You know?" He looked to you and met your eyes before you could look away, the irises gaining a soft golden glow in the darkness.

"Yeah, it's… I'm not big on parties." You passed the can from hand to hand awkwardly. "I only came because a friend dragged me here, but then she ditched me. Fucking fantastic."

It was only after you'd finished your depressingly sarcastic reel that you realized people probably didn't care about hearing your mediocre sob story. You winced and looked up to gauge if you should apologize, but Bokuto didn't look bothered by your admittance.

"Well, that's life." He sighed and stretched all the way back, lying down to look up at the stars. "You win some and you lose some. But the stars are nice tonight."

Hesitatingly, you weren't sure if he was welcoming you to mirror him, but you decided to anyways. You felt very close to touching his shoulder, and it almost felt like he was radiating warmth off of his body onto yours. He raised his arm and then tilted his head to you, and you saw him looking at you out the corner of his eye.

"You ever stargazed before?" he asked. You mustered the courage to turn your head and look back at him, and quietly shook your head.

"Not really, no."

"Hey, that's cool. That's Orion over there-see the belt? The diagonal one."

"Yeah…" You were still unsettled with how friendly Bokuto was being to you. Being an introvert, you never really 'got around'. This was your first big party, and you weren't comfortable enough to dance or mingle or go wild like all of your peers downstairs. Despite your reluctance, Bokuto didn't seem to care and pointed out another constellation. After a couple of them you began to relax and drew a line yourself.

"Is that one?"

"No, but good eye." He got up and then stretched, and you followed, having forgotten about where you were. Bokuto had an energy about him that made you forget everything that didn't seem important. He drew the spotlight to himself and you were the audience, mesmerized. He grinned at you. "Anyways, it's pretty late, so I'll walk you to your car or dorm."

"But aren't you hosting?" you asked, gesturing back downstairs. He shrugged.

"They'll be fine without me. Gotta make sure you get home safe, [Surname]."

"…[Name]. Is fine, if you want."

You still didn't go to very many parties after that, but you had taken an affinity with the stars. Bokuto was loud and downright obnoxious and self-centred and egotistic-but he was a pretty good guy, and you were really glad to have met him. In a way, he appreciated the stardom, and was quite glad to have met you too.


	19. Vacation [19] Hitoka Yachi

Honestly, you never expected your vacation to go so far downhill.

Japan was well-known for its torrential rain pours, but you would’ve really liked if the rain decided to come by when you _weren’t_ on vacation. It came by and took everybody by storm, for lack of better wording. And, unfortunately, spring break lined up with spring rains. You had lots of sunshine-filled plans to celebrate your break from school, but the beach was closed due to unsafe weather conditions. The rain storms were also grounding planes, meaning you couldn’t even go back home until next Monday. All your plans _ruined_ by a little water. 

Today there seemed to be a let-up, so you decided to take a trip outside of your hotel room. The friends you had traveled with were long asleep, passed out in their beds. The jet-lag had taken a lot out of them. It’d probably hit you soon enough, but for now, you were just too bored to function.

The air was stiflingly humid and deep puddles littered the asphalt like miniature ponds. There was still a drizzle coming down and you had to squint as rain hit your face. If only you were swimming right now. But the prospect of being swept away by a greedy, over-powered tide didn’t appeal to you, so your only travel destination right now was the convenience store. Might as well eat away the disappointment, right? Before long, your thoughts were filled of ice cream and mochi and chocolates, and cheesy excitement replaced the sadness that was curdling in your gut. It was all going fine and dandy until you were walking back and heard the sky split in half.

_Boom._

Thunder rolled until it never seemed to end, continuing long after you had frozen up and winced in shock. You didn’t have enough time to look up at the sky before it opened up on you, depositing the ocean dreams you had fantasized about onto your head.

There was no real cover besides a flimsy awning of another hotel’s façade on the street corner. Hugging the plastic bag of food close to your chest tightly (priorities, duh!), you yelped and dived underneath. If you were miserable before, you had no words for _now_. Your clothes, hair, and feet were uncomfortably damp or totally soaked through, and you couldn’t even eat your snacks in the comfort of your room. The rain would pass in a few minutes, but there was no telling how long that’d take. It wasn’t like you could safely go on your phone to wait it out either, what with the _sideways rain_ coming at you.

“God, this vacation sucks.”

“U-um… hello?”

The meek voice made you jump; for a minute you wondered if you’d personally offended a tiny weather god and was going to get smote through divine retribution or something. Your heart was jammed in your throat and it didn’t help once you had laid eyes on the actual speaker; the girl’s clothes, similar to yours, clung tightly to her petite frame and highlighted the roundness of her hazel brown eyes and golden blond hair. In her small hands she seemed to be fiddling with an umbrella, which was so pathetic that it currently resembled a head of limp lettuce.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean…!” You weren’t sure what to say. ‘Sorry for talking out loud to myself like a weirdo’? But the girl seemed to be just as flustered as you and shook her head, a soft pink hue making her skin come aglow in the heavy, hot air.

“N-no, it’s fine! I was just, er, going to ask if you could… maybe look at this? It flipped inside out. My hotel’s only a short walk from here, but I don’t think I can make it in this rain…” She sounded heartbreakingly sincere in her sheepishness, and even if you _weren’t_ tumbling head over heels with her sheer _cuteness_ , you would’ve been swayed to agree with whatever she said anyways. 

“Is it broken?” you asked shyly, suddenly feeling very responsible as she handed you the umbrella. 

“I think a clip came loose, but I’m not sure how to fix it. It was so windy that I couldn’t get a grip on it anyways, aha…”

You had an image of the poor girl getting blown around by the wind and had to stifle the smile that came to your face. _Calm yourself_! you chided. _Stop working up a crush on every girl that’s nice to you ever!_

You tried opening the umbrella, and like the girl had said, one of the metal fibres sagged. You played around with it thoughtfully, sliding it up into place. If it wasn’t actually broken, maybe you could just set it back into place. After a second you felt a click and the umbrella held its shape once you let go. The girl was practically abeam with excitement as you handed it back to her.

“Oh my gosh! Thank you so much—you’re a life saver.”

“H-hey, no worries! I do what I can.” _Don’t smile too weird. Don’t stare weirdly. Don’t say anything weird. Don’t—._

“Where are you going to go now?” you said flatly, super weirdly. You cringed. You’d been trying to ask something along the lines of _will you be able to get back to your place safely?_ , but now you sounded like a freaky stalker. To your luck, it slid off of her like water on a duck’s back, and she pointed down the road in the direction you were heading before all of this began.

“Hotel Taiyou. It’s just down the block. What about you?”

“I-I’m also staying at Taiyou!” you blurted out, trying not to sound too excited when your gut was about to burst. But this girl seemed to be on your wavelength and visibly perked up, even seeming to be bouncing on the balls of her feet.

“Really? That’s so great! I’m here with my school’s volleyball club, and I was going to go get them drinks for practice on the beach, but then the rain…”

“I’m here with my friends, but the rain stopped us from going to the beach too.” 

Now that there was real conversation going on, you were starting to be a little more appreciative of this weather after all. Rain? Sure, why _not_ have a little hurricane if it’d plop you here with this tooth-rottingly sweet girl? Shyly, you glanced down to your feet to muster up some courage and sucked in a deep breath. “Um, can I ask what your name is?”

“Oh! Right, I forgot to introduce myself! I’m Yachi Hitoka.” She bowed a bit, her hair shifting a bit around her small chin. She smiled up at you bashfully. “And your name?”

The clouds parted then, and you felt the warmth of sunlight finally hit your face. Glancing up, you noticed a hazy rainbow with dusty edges painting itself across the sky. 

“[Surname] [Name]. Do you mind if we walk back together?”

“No, of course not!”

And even though it wasn’t really raining any more, the two of you shared her umbrella anyways.


	20. Work [20] Asahi Azumane

At a NGO animal shelter, you often found a lot of strange people coming by to volunteer or work. Vets and trainers came in all shapes and forms, just like the rescues. So, if you were going to compare your co-worker to one, you might’ve said he was like a gigantic, terrifying looking mastiff. One that looked mean and nasty but loved belly rubs and had a heart of gold.

Asahi Azumane scared you at first; well, he scared almost everybody. It was a hell of a first impression, what with the combination of towering height and sports-toned musculature and long hair and early scruff. You would’ve expected a guy like that to be pushing crime for the Yakuza or something, but Asahi was one of the most diligent staff members at the shelter there was. He often did most of the heavy lifting, but he also did odd jobs here and there if there was a sudden influx of rescues or adoptions. The animals seemed to have the same instinctual response humans did, shying away, which always seemed to break his heart—so you just had to step in, comforting the rescues and reassuring them until they trusted him. That made him happy, and it made your own chest feel aglow with light.

“Oh, Azumane… you didn’t have to—”

“It’s not a problem,” he replied with ease behind the lofty pile of boxes, already used to your hasty apologies. Azumane was a far more capable person than you, physically, and always ended up adding your list of chores to his own. It made you feel bad, but you were starting to suspect it was a form of repayment for sneaking him in to see the rescues all the time, so you let it go with a guilty-ish sigh.

“Since you do most of my work anyways, you know you can always ask for a favour, right?”

It was already the end of the work day. Shifts with Asahi made time fly. The shelter was already closed, so you and Asahi were the last few people left to close. Some of the newer dogs were restless in their kennels, either pacing in circles or wagging their tails impatiently. Asahi smiled softly as he set the load down and you hurriedly glanced away as not to stare at how _bright_ it made his face.

“I told you, [Name]-san. I love doing this for you.”

The _love_ he threw in so casually, whether it was truly directed to you or not, still made your heart start jumping circles in your chest. When you glanced down you noticed one of the newer puppies—Ryo, his tempie name was, for he was as big as a dragon—grinning almost fiendishly. You sucked in a deep breath.

“U-um. Then, Azumane, could I be selfish and ask you for something else?”

He perked up, looking down at you with the same gentleness the giant always had. “Yes, of course.”

“Do you want to do something after work? Like… a date?”

“A-A date?! W-well, that is… I’d love to, yes, of course!”

A couple years or so later, Ryo laid his big sleepy head down on your lap, trapping you in place as Asahi snored away in your ear. You rubbed your pregnant belly absent-mindedly, feeling the life kick away inside of you, and felt Asahi’s comforting warmth encircled around you. He still had a scary-looking face, but his glass heart was yours, and you loved him so, so very much.

**Author's Note:**

> Elsewhere: https://goo.gl/EdLvx8


End file.
